


Memory

by miokay



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Anxiety, Depressed Jack, Depression, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-22 11:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14307429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miokay/pseuds/miokay
Summary: He used to be so happy. He used to take each day as it came, grinning, emitting happiness from just his mere presence.What had happened..?What went wrong?





	1. memory

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a pilot chapter, if it ends up good i'll write more, and if not i won't continue it.
> 
> disclaimer// this is a work of fiction. i love sean and mark. i really appreciate them both and their girlfriends. i suffer from suicidal depression and anxiety, so most things in this fic will be based off my own experiencce. thank you.

Jack heaved, coughing up the remains of whatever it was that he had ate that day. His throat and chest felt as if they were caving in, and he quivered.  
“Shite…”  
He spat out the remaining vomit in his mouth, and stood up. The sudden movement made his head and stomach flip more, and his nausea intensified. He flushed the toilet, then stumbled over to the mirror.  
Disgusting.  
His nose was bleeding slightly, jaw slacked from the constant throwing up and he overall looked like shit. Exhausted and greasy. Shit. He should shower.  
A half-hearted look over to the shower just made him gag again, but he still walked over into the shower.  
There was only cold water in.  
  
“And I’ll see all of you dudes… in the next video!” He screamed, voice cracking at the very end, a smile plastered on his face. He stretched, did a thumbs up to the camera for Robin, and ended the recordings. He sent the footage off without a second word, and sighed.  
Finally.  
Jack stretched his arms, leaning backwards onto his chair. It was dark out, so he couldn’t really go outside.  
Not that he planned on that. Going outside was too much energy, and his energy was already almost depleted from just getting out of bed.  
It was getting harder to deal with this, he knew he couldn’t go much longer without cracking.  
_But,_ he thought to himself, _I’ve gotten this far. I can still… do this, right?_  
Spider web-esque scars caught his attention, they were carved up his arm. Some were white and clear, and some were scabbed over and red. He picked at the scabs, hissing at the pain and continuing doing it, almost hysterical, before being brought to his senses from a skype call.  
Mark..?  
He… really wasn’t in the mood for this, right now.  
  
Jack declined the call, but decided against completely ignoring it. He didn’t want to seem mean, so he simply sent a message.  
_What’s up?_  
It was short and sweet. Almost no evidence of emotion, at all… perfect.  
The icon that Mark was typing came almost instantly, shocking Jack. Mark used to take ages to respond… or maybe this is just important?  
_Me, Wade and Bob wanna do some prop hunt.  You wanna?_  
Jack grunted, digging the heels of his palms into the bottom of his eye-sockets.  
_It’s pretty late here, and I’m tired as fuck. Is tomorrow okay?_  
_Sure! Get some rest, Jackaboy. :)_  
  
Jack didn’t go to bed, but that much was obvious. He hadn’t really slept for… four days, was it? He was running completely on caffeine and anxiety, which was absolutely nothing new. Three years ago… he would have laughed at the thought of himself sitting on the floor of his bathroom, chuckling masochistically with blood and tears dripping off his body.  
He would’ve had no idea he would’ve wanted to die in just a few years.  
He used to be so happy. He used to take each day as it came, grinning, emitting happiness from just his mere presence.  
What had happened..?  
What went wrong?  
“Shit, I should…” he coughed, alcohol still present in the back of his throat, “God fuckin’ damnit…”  
His floor and shower were stained with copper, the steam from the water causing a copper stench to emit from most of it, and he just craned his neck backwards, and closed his eyes.  
  
How did it end up like this?


	2. exhaustion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gghghhghg i'm surprised i got like. 2 comments?? i normally get none at all  
> it's so ,, cool to have people like this..
> 
> ALSO THIS WON'T BE DAILY UPDATING expect a really erratic update like. 5 daily then suddenly i dont post for like 4 weeks. i'm weird. sorry.

Jack’s eyelids fluttered open, yet they shut almost instantly. His head hurt. So, so, much…   
He hated that after the events that had happened last night, thighs still burning, and completely losing consciousness out of sheer exhaustion, he was the most energised he had been after ages.    
That being said, he was still exhausted.   
His neck was arched in an awkward position, causing a sharp ache to run through his spine whenever he moved in the slightest.   
“Okay, Sean…” he whispered out to himself, voice broken from the intake of alcohol and simply the overall emotions he felt, “Time to… open your eyes, okay?”    
Opening his eyelids shouldn’t be such a hard thing to do, but it was taking up all of his energy. It was tiring.    
Life was tiring.   
His eyes opened, and moved his neck forwards, causing a hiss to escape his mouth. “Shit.” The blood on his thighs had dried up and scabbed already, and a swift wipe of his hand ripped off the scabbed skin, and blood bubbled up already.   
He would’ve cursed to himself and rushed to clean it up, but he didn’t care anymore.   
  
Wait, why was it still dark out? Didn’t he just sleep?   
It’d been an hour or so since he finally woke up again, and he had taken a shower to wake up and wash the blood, oil and sweat off his body. He still felt dead.   
His phone was fully charged, which was a good thing, he supposes.   
Multiple notifications made him panic, and he only understood when he noticed the time.    
It was 10pm.   
He had slept through the whole day.    
He didn’t upload.   
He didn’t do anything.   
“Oh, fuck,” Jack hissed, urgently opening twitter and posting a quick tweet, but purposely avoided an explanation.   
_ Sorry for no uploads!! I’ll be back on schedule tomorrow! _ _   
_ Groaning, he tossed his phone onto his bed after turning off most of his notifications, and dismissing those still left.   
What a waste of a day.   
Maybe if he died of blood loss… maybe if he just drank more alcohol and died of alcohol poisoning, he wouldn’t be sitting on his floor, regretting everything.   
Maybe if he opened up about everything this would be easier   
Maybe if he just fucking ended everything right now, maybe if he was hanging from the goddamned ceiling he wouldn’t be a fucking waste of oxygen.    
He had… everything ready, right? He had a note, a prerecorded video for this and a noose ready.   
Jack just needed to gather the confidence, which he knew he wouldn’t be getting anytime soon. How pitiful of him to want to die, but be scared of the very same thing.   
  
Oh, he was supposed to play Prop Hunt today, which he was only reminded about when he saw the notifications from Mark in his skype on his computer.   
  
_ MARK: Hey! Jackaboy, you ready to play? _ _   
_ _ MARK: Jaaack? _ _   
_ _ MARK: Jack, you okay? _ _   
_ _ MARK: Where are you? _ _   
_ **Missed Call From** **_Markimoo_ **   
_ MARK _ :  _ Jaaaaaaaaaaackaboooooyyyy? _ _   
_ _ JACK: Hey! Sorry, I’ve had a busy day with stuff. _ _   
_ _ MARK: No problem, buddy. You okay though, despite that? Ya didn’t upload at all. _ _   
_ _ JACK: Yeah _ _   
_ _ JACK: Actually, if I can be honest, I literally slept through all of today.  _ _   
_ _ JACK: 4 days of not sleeping is a bitch. _ _   
_ _ MARK: Holy shit, Jack. _ _   
_ _ MARK: Everyone tells me to sleep but looks like you need it more than me. _ _   
_ _ JACK: Nah, I’m fine. _ _   
_ _ JACK: Actually, can I be honest with you? _ _   
_ _ MARK: Sure! What’s on your mind? _ _   
_ Was he actually going to do this? Was he going to be honest for once in his life?   
Or would he regret this for the rest of his life?   
_ JACK: nevermind sorry if i worried you _ _   
_   
Jack hated himself even more after he pressed send, and turned off his phone.   
It was 11:30pm, and he looked half-heartedly over to his bed. Truth be told, Jack hadn’t slept in that bed for almost two weeks.   
He found himself not sleeping, or passing out from sheer fatigue in his bathroom. Might as well use it, instead of using it as a freaking room accessory.    
Scabs on his thighs and arms burned. Maybe he shouldn’t cu-hurt himself tonight, and use this night as a resting day.   
He was… so tired.   
He was tired of life.   
  
_ MARK: Oh, are you sure? I really don’t mind. And if there’s something bad going on, I’d be more than happy to help you. _ _   
_ _ MARK: Jack? _ _   
_ __ MARK: Damn

Jack can’t remember when this all began. He remembers being happy, then it all goes to void, and then it simply ends up with him like he is now. A miserable waste of space.   
Honestly, he knows he’s been like this for almost half of his life. He remembers being positive and happy at 13, at 14 everything is a blur, and at 15, he remembers how he is now.   
Jack has wanted to die for years, but he has never, ever, found the confidence to do that.

Ironically enough, the self-proclaimed most positive youtuber of all time is in reality, a depressed, suicidal wreck. He has tried to find a helping hand, he’s been reaching out for a hand, because deep inside,   
_ He doesn’t want this to be the end. _   
If someone was to grab his hand, help him, love him, and support him, he’d be ever-grateful.   
Yet, if someone was going to reach out for him, when he’s been so closed off for years,   
he’d push them away.   
  
Jack doesn’t know what to do anymore.   
  
He slips into his bed, and gasps slightly at the comfort of it. Damn, it really has been ages since he’s been in comfort. Dark hair spreads across his pillow as he lays down, and he closes his eyes, ready for a restless sleep.   
  
He was so tired.


	3. nil

“Jeez, remind me why I still play with you guys?” Jack half-heartedly chuckled out, shaking his head. He, Bob, Wade and Mark had just finished a recording session of prop hunt, but decided to stay on the discord call. They haven’t really talked properly as friends in a while, and even if it was on discord, it was better than anything else.  
Wade’s icon lit up, and the sound of Wade’s chuckling became audible, followed by a snarky comment from Bob saying how they’re the only friends he had, other than Robin, of course.  
Though it was regrettably true, Jack immediately retaliated, boasting with an obvious overstatement, amusing everyone in the call.   
Mark came to Jack’s defense, before remarking that the same could be said about Bob.  
Bob gasped with feigned shock, “I can’t believe you of all people said that!”  
“I have Tyler and Ethan!”  
Jack sniggered, trying to muffle it down.   
Oh, he forgot how this had felt. It had been months, maybe years, since he felt so easily happy. It had been ages since he felt happy without a burning pain on his thighs, and it had been ages since it wasn’t so hard to be happy.  
The playful banter continued for a while, until they all had to say their goodbyes to do whatever they had planned.   
Though, Jack didn’t necessarily have anything planned. Most of his days had a solid schedule.  
  
Wake up.  
Eat. Maybe.  
Shower. Sometimes.  
Record.  
Post.  
Cut.  
In truth, Jack hated that his self-harming had become a part of his day. It was awful. He had always told his viewers never to do it, it’s not the right thing to resort to, and it isn’t something to glorify, yet there he was everyday, passed out in his bathroom with blood trickling down his legs. Now that he thought about it, it was sickening. He knew he’d just cut more and more until there was no room, and maybe, just maybe, he’d carve up his arms, and go beyond the point of no return.  
Maybe he’d die.  
  
Shaking his head, he dug the heels of his palms into the bottom of his eye-sockets and looked at the time. Around 2am. Going to bed now would be early for him, but if he dared tweet or show any activity on social media he’d get bombarded with “go to sleep!” from his fans.  
He loved his fans. They all deeply cared about each other, and him. And even though he feels like he doesn’t deserve it, he’s so glad he could be the reason such great people came together to make a friendly, welcoming community.  
  
At this point, he was sure the only thing keeping him from killing himself was his fans. He had read so many stories about how finding him had helped many with suicidal thoughts, depression and so on, and he knew that even if he didn’t think he mattered, he did.  
But the thoughts still continued, and he didn’t understand why.  
  
It was selfish.  
  
His breath hitched, and he didn’t understand why his vision was blurry until he noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks, and he simply just stared at his desk, regulating his breathing.   
What if he was to die right now?  
What if he just stabbed his chest, and softly closed his eyes, finally feeling settled.  
Fuck.  
He needed this.  
  
The next few minutes of his life are something he can’t properly remember, but at the same time, are something he’d never, ever, forget.  
A broken man walked into his kitchen. He looked at the knife he had done the Anti skits with, and he grabbed it, rubbing his finger against the sharp tip of the blade.  
A bead of blood dripped.  
  
He collapsed to his knees, yelping at the sudden pain and the realisation of what he was going to do.  
Was he going to do this? Is this worth it? Would anyone miss him?  
Panic settled into his body, and his breathing got worse, shaking more intense.   
Before he could back out, he reached the knife into the air,  
  
And it plunged into flesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HES NOT DEAD I PROMISE  
> sorry for the delay for such a bad chapter i'm doing Intense Therapy(tm) and it's Hard to write but. yeah.  
> also  
> septiplier will happen in this but it won't be something like "hey lol ily get over it" and "ok" it'll be slow burn shit and they won't get into an actual relationship it'll moreso be friends w/ benefits, similar to like,, they kiss and hug and say they love eachother but they're not in an actual relationship. that kind of thing. yeah. sorry if that's not ur kind of thing


End file.
